


Lies & Trust

by plasticlizard022



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flashbacks, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:40:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticlizard022/pseuds/plasticlizard022
Summary: When one of Hydra's most notorious and important spies turns herself in to SHIELD, Bucky is shocked to learn that it's you - the girl he had fallen in love with while hiding in Bucharest.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106





	1. Trust Must Be Earned

Your heels clacked across the hardwood floor, your chin held high even as your hands were handcuffed tightly behind your back. It didn't matter that you had come here of your accord, white flag raised and willing to share all you knew - you could not be trusted. It was hard to blame every precaution they took considering all you had done.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught glimpses of agents watching you through windows as you were escorted to a cell. You only turned your attention and flashed a smile when you passed by a small assembly of the Avengers: Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, and Bucky. They wore distrusting, bitter expressions. Everyone except for Bucky that is; confusion and betrayal flashes across his face as you were pushed forward down the hall. With a less than gentle shove, you stumbled into the cell - though it felt more like a glass box than it did a prison. There was a small cot pushed against the corner but the cell was otherwise empty. 

"Is a girl not allowed any reformation?" you asked with a coy smile as the infamous Nick Fury moved in front of your cell. While you weren't fond of the zoo-animal feeling this enclosure gave you, the clear visibility of the entire room was nice. Fury planted himself firmly, his one good eye peering as deep into your soul as it could. "As a prisoner, I can't say I feel much obligation to share what I know."

"As a prisoner, we can keep you from causing more havoc in the world," he stated matter-of-factly. While he made a good point, he had to consider if this was the best course of action. Did you really have any valuable secrets and was this or was this not a trap? It wasn't a risk he was willing to take. . . yet.

Tony Stark entered the room, followed by his little posse. What kind of interrogation would this be without Captain America or the equally infamous Black Widow? You flashed her a knowing smile. "Long time no see," you cooed. Thanks to Natasha, it was common knowledge that the two of you had trained together and that you were the only agent stronger and more capable than the spider herself. Your smirk widened as the ex-Winter Soldier entered the room; his attempt to hide back in the shadows did not go unnoticed. 

"Alright, Ben Arnold," the billionaire piped up and moved around your cell. Your feet remained cemented in place though your gaze followed him as he moved around you. Unbeknownst to him but this was not the first time the two of you had met. How many of his parties had you sneaked into in order to accomplish your mission? "What made you decide to suddenly turncoat? Realize you were on the losing side?"

"Something like that," you answered plainly. As he moved out of your peripheral you moved your focus back to Bucky's shadowed figure hiding in the corner of the room. He wouldn't even look your way let alone meet your gaze. 

Good ol' Mr. Independence moved forward and spoke his turn, "If you want us to trust you, you're going to have to drop the defensive spy thing." His arms crossed in front of his chest and you took in every square inch of muscle he hid under that button-up shirt. 

Your tongue ran over your teeth and a smile forced your cheeks upward. "Trust goes both ways and you locked me in a glass cage with my hands tied behind my back even though I came unarmed and with a peace offering," you responded simply but made sure malice laced each word. Years of training had taught you to get the most out of every interaction and now was no exception. While it was true that you came with good intentions and the expectation to be imprisoned, you wanted to ensure your freedom as soon as possible. The best way to do that, you figured, would be through guilt. 

A couple of looks were exchanged and a silent conversation was held through gaze alone. After a silent yet loud argument through vision alone, it appeared they had come to an agreement. Rogers motioned for you to move over to the slot normally used to slide food into the cell. You backed up against the slot and he undid your restraints. You laid it on a little thick by stretching your fingers and rubbing your wrists as if your poor, little, lady hands were sore from being handcuffed though it really hadn't been anything more than inconvenient.

"Quid pro quo, Hannibal," Tony piped up again and moved beside Steve. 

"Trust goes both ways, right?" Steve reminded you. It was almost cute how eager they were to get information out of you. It just wasn't that simple though. You didn't come in expecting to be welcomed with open arms but you weren't going to prepare to spend an eternity in this cage. 

You stepped in a little closer, almost as if you were going to tell a secret, and spoke clearly, "I'm not going to give up the only thing I have to offer just to be left here to rot once you've gotten what you wanted." Of course, you knew that Steve Rogers had honor and if he promised that you'd be freed then he would hold up his end of the bargain. His word was the only one you'd trust so it had to come from him.

Nick had barely made a sound when you held up a finger in his direction to silence him. He clearly didn't like that but you spoke first which kept him from speaking. "I want you," you said and held eye contact with Captain America, "to promise me that once I've give you what you wanted that you'll let me out of this cage." 

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Natasha said, speaking what was already on everyone else's mind. "We don't even know if what she has is of any value." Everyone would be taking a gamble - you included. They could easily break their promise and keep you caged forever; they were also going to have to take a leap of faith and pray you were telling the truth. 

Steve inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower as he calculated the worth of risk to reward. He must've thought the gambit was worth because he offered the best thing a man of honor could offer: his word. "If what you have to offer proves that you've turned your back on Hydra then we'll let you out of the cell." It went without saying that there were certainly going to be strings attached but that was something you had already come to terms before turning yourself in. 

The corners of your mouth curled upwards. "Hope you have some paper because you're going to want notes," you began before diving straight in. While you refused to outright explain your sudden turn, it was pretty clear that Hydra's newest evil scheme had played a large role. You had already been itching for freedom but had felt trapped in your lifestyle and occupation. It was hard to find the push to leave the one organization that had its claws deep in you. But the camel's back finally broke once you learned of their newest plan. Even as a spy knowingly doing harm, you still couldn't believe the level of evil they had planned. It was something so massive that you couldn't possibly handle it on your own and so you had turned to the only people you thought capable of saving the world - the Avengers. 

A sense of urgency filled the room with so much static electricity that you could practically see the hair on their neck rise. Just like that you were left alone in that box. Your lips drew together tightly in frustration. Of course it made sense that they wanted to verify your information and stop the threat before having to worry about babysitting you once you were let out but that didn't mean you'd enjoy your time waiting while they attempted to save the world. 

"Mariana," a voice growled from behind you. It seemed you weren't as alone as you had thought. You spun on your heels and didn't try to force a smile this time - you only met Bucky's eyes. "If that's even your name." You only shook your head slowly. Surely he had to know that that wasn't your real name. 

He licked his lips and nodded slowly. He opened his mouth to speak but you interjected first. "Why aren't you with the others?" you asked. Did they not trust to leave you alone (that was understandable) or was he not invited. His refusal to answer lead you to believe it was the latter though you couldn't tell for certain. You jammed your hands into your pockets and tilted your head. "It's (Y/N), by the way." 

Bucky turned his head to the side. He was clearly conflicted and he had every right to be. At the time, lying to him had been so easy and thoughtless. Only now did you feel any sort of guilt for leading him like you had. It wasn't an emotion you were used to experiencing: guilt. It made your stomach churn and it was an uncomfortable sensation. At least you were able to keep your composure - always cool under pressure.

"What're you doing here?" he asked you.

"I told you-"

"No," he interrupted. His voice was surprisingly level though the raised volume indicated the anger he really felt. "I don't believe you. I want to know why you're here." No, he wasn't really angry; it was masking his fear. No matter how hard and how well he hid it, Bucky had always been afraid. 

"I'm not here for you," you assured him though he didn't seem to be relieved. It was only because he didn't trust you. "If I really wanted to hurt you, I would've done so in Bucharest."

His nose scrunched in and he scoffed. "You did hurt me in Bucharest," his whisper low to ensure that no one else heard his confession. There was that nasty guilt feeling again. It was only then that you did turn your head. Hurting him hadn't been your intention - just an unfortunate consequence. He left the room finally leaving you completely alone. You laid back on the uncomfortable cot and covered your face with your hands. Damn him.


	2. Trust takes years to build. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When your tip to the Avengers proves to be correct, they feel obligated to hold up their end of the deal and let you out of the cell.

His scruff tickled your skin as his lips placed a lingering kiss on your bare shoulder. You pulled the sheets further up around your body as Bucky slipped out of bed quietly. "Come back to bed," you whispered to him as he dressed himself for the day. 

He moved over to your side of the bed and knelt down so he was eye-level. He pressed another kiss but to your forehead this time. "I won't be long," he promised. The sun had just peeked above the buildings but he had been awake for awhile. Some fresh air and hot coffee would do him some good. Nightmares still plagued him in his sleep nearly every night and it made him restless. He snapped a hat on his head and slipped on some gloves before ducking out of the front door. 

You didn't even realize that you had fallen back asleep until he woke you up again when he got back home. "Breakfast," he smiled and sat two coffees on the counter, one nearly empty and the other a sandy color from the amount of cream and sugar in it - just the way you liked it. You kept the sheet wrapped around your naked body as you moved to his counter and sipped the warm beverage. The walk from the coffee shop where you "worked" and Bucky's apartment gave the coffee just enough time to cool off but it was close enough that it didn't become cold. You dug around in the little paper bag and pulled out a bagel. 

"You're pretty great, you know that?" you chuckled and kissed his cheek before sauntering into the bathroom to get dressed and ready for the day. You caught him stealing glances at you in the reflection of the mirror as you applied your makeup. He was so smitten. It was adorable. It almost made you feel guilty for sometimes going through his things when he would leave you alone. Almost. 

****

The door to your cell slid open and you stood. Your ideal weekend plans didn't usually involve nothing to do but pick at the ends of your hair and chip off your nail polish. That being said, it was far from your worst weekend. It had just been so boring. 

Steve Rogers entered your cell, blocking the doorway so you couldn't get out. From the cut spanning his chin and the shiner swelling on his right cheek you knew he had been in a pretty good fight. "I wasn't lying," you said nonchalantly. If he had returned then that meant that the mission must've been successful. 

"No," he agreed. It was something that had surprised everyone involved. The whole team had gone to the Hydra base prepared to spring a trap you had set. But there was no trap, only the danger that you had promised would be there. "We need to know your intentions. We can't just let you back out into the world again until we know you're not going to stir up trouble." 

Just because it was obvious to you didn't mean it was obvious to everyone else. It's what you told yourself when you rather sheepishly asked, "Well, is it too much for a girl to assume that she might be offered a spot on the team?" Natasha's own ledger was filled with lots of red. The Winter Soldier had plenty of assassinations on his record. Tony Stark basically used to supply terrorists with weapons. It didn't seem so crazy to think that there might be a place for you too. 

Steve was a little taken back. That was not what he had been expecting. At best, he figured you finally found your heart and just didn't want the world to end. At worst, this was a really elaborate scheme of some sort. "Just because you told the truth once doesn't mean you're suddenly scot free. I promised to let you out of the cell so why don't we start with that," he informed. Not quite the answer you wanted but it wasn't one that shocked you. At this point you weren't sure what else you could do to prove your change of heart because you had informed them of the biggest operation Hydra was running but you'd figure something out.

Steve held up his hand and it was only then that you realized how they'd ensure you were on your best behavior. "House arrest? Seriously?" you scoffed and crossed your arms as you examined the ankle monitor he held up. It would be unwise to tell him you knew how to disarm those pretty easily and so you kept your mouth shut. "What are you confining me to? A bedroom?" That would be like staying in a slightly cushier cell!

"We'll let you wander around the entirety of Stark Tower but it'll monitor everywhere you go. It'll be a good way to show you can be trusted. . ." Until you could prove that you weren't trying to steal information or, even worse, destroy information/technology then they would make sure you weren't snooping around Tony's lab or any other part of the building you shouldn't go. 

You felt like some sort of zoo animal in a lab experiment but if this is what it would take for you to join the team and turn your life around then you'd put up with it. Besides, Stark Tower was pretty big and you could find a way to enjoy your time trapped here. You snatched the monitor from his grip and slapped it around your ankle. "How do I look?" you asked with a flashy smile that was followed by a devilish chuckle. "Just promise you're not leading me on, Rogers. If everyone else can pick themselves up and do good, then don't I deserve a shot too?" 

Steve didn't say anything. His lips pursed together and he stepped aside to let you out. He wasn't sure if you joining the team was something that would ever really happen but it wasn't something he would rule out. You would be an asset after all. And he did believe that people could change and change for the better. For now, you just needed to pass the tests put in place for you. 

Natasha came to show you around. She was the least worried about you. You were sure it was because she felt like she knew you and would be able to predict if you'd do something stupid like espionage. Maybe it was because she had been in your shoes once and was the only one who'd offer any sort of understanding. Either way, the two of you found surprising comfort in each other's presence. Neither of you had really had a home growing up but you had shared a miserable childhood - there was something almost nostalgic about it. 

Slipping comfortably into Russian, the two of you began a conversation as she showed you were you'd eat, where the different rec rooms were, the various labs to avoid, the offices to stay away from, and every room in between. "Do you think I'm capable of change?" you asked her in the elevator ride up to the housing floor. 

"Everyone's capable of change. Doesn't mean that you have, though," she replied and watched the number on the wall slowly climb. "If you haven't, then let me just leave you with this. Joining this team is the best thing that's happened to me. I've found a purpose. A family. And if you hurt my family there will be hell to pay." You only smiled. She really hadn't changed that much over the years. 

"I wanted out. Same as you. You just got lucky first," you added quietly. Ding. The elevator chimed happily before the doors slid open and welcomed you to a long hallway with doors littered evenly along the walls. You followed Nat down the hall to a room at the very end. "Who else lives on this floor?" you asked curiously as she unlocked the bedroom for you. 

"Just you for now," she said and let you enter the room first. It was mostly coincidental. The floor hadn't been cleared out for your sake; they were only dormant because the team hadn't expanded enough for the rooms to be needed until now. 

The room was nicer than most people's apartments. There was a luscious king-sized bed with fashionable nightstands on either side. In the corner of the room was a chaise lounge and side table - perfect for reading. There was a TV on the wall opposite the bed but the room was designed to accommodate a plush love seat in front of the screen as well. The walk-in closet was to die for and the personal bathroom was even better with both a soaker tub and a shower with a rainfall faucet. Stark really spared no expense. You almost wouldn't hate being trapped in here. 

Natasha leaned against the door frame and smiled. She tossed you your own key fob. It almost felt official. "Welcome home." Her grin felt genuine which caused you to smile just as honestly - none of that smug shit that always pushed your lips up. 

"Hopefully," you whispered. It would be nice if this was your home. Once the stupid weight around your ankle was gone then maybe it really would be home. She left you to settle in.

Even if you had brought everything you owned here, it wouldn't be much. The small cosmetic bag that you had brought with you had been confiscated upon your arrival but returned once it had been cleared of any bugs or other monitoring gear. It had a couple of your lipsticks, an emerald necklace, a cherry blossom hair clip, and a little wooden figurine of a lynx. These were the very few items in the world that had any sort of worth to you. So you dug around the room and found a good place to hide them; the lamps on the nightstands were large, almost garishly so, but hollow on the bottom. Your precious goods were hidden away. 

You had just plopped down on the bed when a figure appeared in the door. You sat up quickly and met eyes with Bucky. "You may have everyone else fooled but not me," he assured you.

"I don't think I've got anyone fooled," you promised and waved your ankle that had the monitor on it as proof. "Or does this look comfortable and fashionable to you?" Tony had created sentient AI that could easily babysit you (a la Big Brother) but instead you had to wear this shameful thing. 

His face crinkled in displeasure. He didn't appreciate your sarcasm. "I'll make sure everyone sees you for what you really are and that you're put back in that cell for the rest of your life," he swore and left you alone. Nice to know he went out of his way just to threaten you. You fell back on the bed. Was he going to tell everyone about Bucharest? Maybe he already had. . . and if he hadn't then you had to wonder why.

****

"You're home late," he mentioned casually from bed. His freshly-showered hair was still wet. 

You tossed your purse onto the counter and shed your coat before crawling onto the bed. You straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck. He covered your face in gentle kisses as his hands felt up your waist. "I had a really bad day at work," you whispered truthfully to him. It wasn't something you wanted to talk about nor was it something you could discuss without blowing your cover. Just having him near made it much better, though. 

"Well, I think I have a remedy for that," he smiled. You smiled back and shimmied out of your clothes. The man Bucky was when he was in love was different than the nervous wreck you had come across just a few months ago. He was still pretty closed and reserved but there was a tender gentleness that pulled him out of his shell when you were around. It made you feel special that he was this way with you and you alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh did you think you were gonna get smut this soon? Oh no no no no you must wait


	3. Time to Earn Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When an old spy buddy of yours resurfaces, you and Bucky might be the only ones able to stop him. But will he even consider working with you?
> 
> A/N: this is the last chapter of "Setup" and we'll get to the really good BuckyxReader stuff next chapter  
> A/N2: Also my laptop went and died while I was on a really short vacation so I should be back to posting a little more regularly now that I got a new one so stay tuned :)

You propped your feet up on the table and glanced around at the Avengers. To say you were the black sheep here would be an understatement; you stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone here looked like a team and you were almost concerned that there wouldn’t be a spot for you. That was still your goal, though: to turn over a new leaf and become one of the good guys. You had done your part for the other side and it wasn’t rewarding. It was exhausting morally, physically, and emotionally. You’d never excuse your actions but it had been what you were raised to do. It was never too late to right wrongs. 

It had been a fairly lonely couple of weeks but it’s not a lifestyle that you were unused to so it had been bearable. You weren’t invited to any of the group activities like the movie night you knew they had to show films to the two Super Soldiers who had been on ice during some of the best summer blockbusters. They often ate together even if it was in a couple small groups instead of a big, familial style. The only time you really got to be around anyone was when you shared the gym with the others while they worked on staying fit, too. But even then, you kept to yourself. 

So being at the table with the nearly fully-assembled Avengers was a nice change of pace. It was also like peeking behind the curtain to see how things were done from this side. You weren’t left wondering why they suddenly trusted you enough to join in on this meeting for long. 

“When we infiltrated the Hydra base, we were able to extract a fair amount of useful information,” Steve declared from the head of the table. “Locations of other bases, names of undercover operations, identities of many operatives. We got a lead on Anton Dreykov.”

At the mention of his name, your blood froze cold. The hair on Natasha’s arms stood up on end, just as on edge as you. At least you understood why you were brought in now. The three of you had quite a bit of history. Anton was the son of General Dreykov who was the overseer of the Red Room. He was also the best spy in the world. You never saw him coming and he always finished his mission. He was impossible to read and would snap at the drop of a dime. You had a long scar that trailed from your neck down your chest to prove it. Natasha was the only target that he had never killed and you were positive she spent the majority of her life, even now, looking over her shoulder waiting for him. His sister’s blood was on her hands after all. 

“He’s slipped through our fingers every time we get too close. Now we finally have someone who can approach him without sending him back into hiding,” Steve added. Your stomach curled into a knot so tight that it would give even the most seasoned sailor a run for his money. 

“No snide remark from Mrs. Smith?” Tony piped in and everyone glanced in your direction. You figured that soon enough you’d hear every spy nickname that he had in his pocket. Mrs. Smith wasn’t a bad place to start. 

You planted your feet on the floor and leaned in over the table. “You know who he is and what he’s capable of. The odds of killing him are going to be slim to none,” you informed them plainly but surely they had to already know that. 

“The goal is to bring him in alive,” Sam chimed in from his spot near the Cap. 

Steve nodded in agreement. “The information he has is valuable. And if he won’t talk, he needs to be held accountable for his crimes,” he stated. You laughed. 

Everyone was really looking at you now. “Seriously? You guys seriously think he can be brought in alive? Not only is he impossible to catch but he’d swallow cyanide before you could even slap cuffs on him,” you chuckled. How naive they were. “You want to take care of him? He’s got to be wiped out completely.”

Some looks were shared around the table but it was Natasha who spoke up first. “She’s right. It’s already hard enough to pin him down. We need to take whatever shot we can while we can.” It was nice to have someone have your back even if it wasn’t personal. 

The group wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of basically putting a hit out on someone but that also didn’t mean that they wouldn’t do what was necessary. “We bring him in if we can,” Steve decided. If that helped him sleep at night, then he could go on believing that that was an option. “He should be in Palm Beach. We’ll get a good night’s rest and roll out in the morning.”

“No,” you disagreed with your arms crossed, leaning back in your seat. 

“Listen, Emma Peel,” Tony glanced your way while everyone looked at you with disbelief. Who did you think you were? “You’re new here but we tend to do things as a team.” 

You shook your hair out and ran your tongue over the front of your teeth. “He’s got eyes and ears everywhere. The moment an Avenger even enters Florida air space, he’ll be out of the country. None of you can come.”

“You expect us to let you do this alone then?” Clint Barton asked with a scoff. 

You only shrugged. “I’m the only person here he wouldn’t run from. The only other option I can think of is bringing Barnes so long as he’s willing to pretend to be the Winter Soldier again.” For whatever reason, that really set everyone off. Steve jumped immediately to his friend’s defense claiming that Bucky shouldn’t go anywhere near anything Hydra until he was completely well. Tony didn’t trust either of you well enough for that to be a thing. Everyone else’s comments were lost in the cacophony. 

It didn’t matter what they said if Bucky wouldn’t agree to your plan anyway. He had been sitting silently at the table this whole time, carefully avoiding any contact with you. But now he looked up and met your eyes. Never had someone looked at you with such hatred and betrayal which was saying a lot considering the look most men offered when you’d stab them in the back (both figuratively and literally). 

He pushed himself from the table and left the room which wasn’t a good sign that he’d play along. It had been dumb to suggest it because you knew full well how he felt about being the Winter Soldier. But bringing down Anton was a big deal. It was worth the personal sacrifice. 

“Is that why you came here?” You were snapped out of your thoughts and brought back to the table now that it had quieted down. Natasha looked your way and asked you plainly. “Was your objective to bring Barnes back to Hydra?” It was a fair assumption and not completely untrue. While you had decided to leave Hydra on your own accord, you needed an excuse to go to New York without being questioned since most of your recent work was located in eastern-Europe. 

Anton had defected to Hydra with you years ago and had become your direct superior. When you went to him with the plan to infiltrate the Avengers so that you were close enough to reactivate Barnes with his trigger words, he was more than eager to let you go. It had been a lie, an excuse to get where you wanted to be. Now it seemed like that was what was going to happen anyway. The last thing you had expected was for the Avengers to find Anton and find him so soon. Fate’s a real son-of-a-bitch. 

“No,” you lied easily - it was second nature to lie and was easier than the truth most of the time. “If I came here for Barnes, I’d already have him. I wouldn’t have given you the information I did. You’re not the only one trying to clear their ledger, Romanoff.” She bought it which convinced the others to buy it, too. It was mostly the truth anyway. 

Steve had gone after Bucky to probably calm him down though you hoped it was to convince him to give up his comfort for the sake of the mission. Was bringing him to Palm Beach dangerous? Definitely. Was it the only way you’d get close enough to Anton to kill him? For sure. So while everyone sat at that table and discussed various other ways to go after the spy that had single-handedly assassinated half a dozen world leaders in his time and countless politicians and “untouchables.” Everyone slowly realized their best chance was following through with your plan, as much as they hated to admit it. They were going to have to trust you.

*****

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked in fluent Romanian, a perky smile pushing your rosy cheeks up. You slid a to-go coffee and a paper bag filled with sweet bread across the counter to the stranger in a hat. He offered a polite smile and shook his head before slipping out of the shop. 

Your finger itched for your phone in your pocket. That man had been the Winter Soldier. It was undeniable. Every Hydra agent was on the lookout for the escaped soldier. What were the odds that you’d find him here in Bucharest while you were working a completely different mission?

There was a sadness in his eyes and the way that he smiled that strangely struck a chord with you. It was very unprofessional of you to feel pity or sympathy to. . . well just about anyone really. And normally you didn’t. Living this life had made you empathically numb. And yet you felt a tinge of guilt as your hand dove into your pocket. 

So you let it go. To make yourself feel better, you told yourself that it hadn’t even been him. You were such a good liar that it was easy to lie even to yourself. But when he came in the next day and ordered the same thing, it wasn’t something that you could continue to deny. But he still wore that same sadness so you let him go. Again. 

*****

Would you even be here now if you had brought Bucky in then and there in Romania? Even if you had, then how would you go about stopping Anton now? Fate really had a funny way of bringing things all the way around.

“We can’t send Barnes back to Hydra,” Natasha stated casually though it felt more like she was explaining something to you that you should’ve already known. They all seemed to be oddly protective of Bucky - at least when it came to shielding him from Hydra. 

You stood from your seat and stretched your arms over your head. “It’s not my intention to hand him over. He’s not only the only option to back me up if you actually let me go in but he may be the only thing that gets me close enough to Anton to kill him.” You lowered your arms and crossed them loosely over your chest. 

“It doesn’t even matter because no one is going to be able to convince him to go anyway. Let alone dress up and pretend to be his old self,” Sam Wilson piped up from his seat. Bucky’s network here was definitely a lot stronger than you had realized. Good for him. 

The room fell silent while everyone tried planning alternate attacks and strategies in their head. “If I can convince him to go, will you trust me enough to go?” you broke the silence. No one seemed eager to agree but no one had a better idea.

With some reluctance, Tony plopped down in his seat. “If you can convince him to go, I think I’ll believe you can do anything,” he stated. With a smirk you sped out of the room. That sounded like confirmation to you so you weren’t going to dance around the semantics. 

Your smile quickly fell from your face as you moved down the hall and entered the elevator that took you down to the floor Bucky’s room was on. This was going to be way easier said than done. The man couldn’t stand to look at you so why would he do anything you asked him to? You were definitely in over your head. 

*****

“Sit.”

“What?” Bucky looked up at you. The sunlight caught his eyes and you were able to take in how blue they really were for the first time. He normally wore his cap so low that you hadn’t actually been sure if his eyes were blue or green because of the shadows. 

Moving around the counter and pulling the bench out, you repeated, “Sit.” He took the seat slowly, more unsure than reluctant. “You’re always running out of here. Just. . . sit and enjoy your coffee, okay?” You flashed him a smile and moved back around to your side of the counter.

He ordered the same thing every day and had been the two weeks you had been stationed here undercover. For whatever reason, you were drawn to him. You slid a muffin across the counter. He opened his mouth to object and ask for the sweetbread but you stopped him by raising your hand. “I know you’ve got no reason to trust me, but just do it. Okay?” 

With the way you bat those long eyelashes, he couldn’t refuse. He took a bite of the muffin and melted. It was still warm - fresh out of the oven. The top layer of the muffin was soft and not overcooked. The berries inside were ripe and burst like small fireworks in his mouth. He wasn’t much of a talker but there was a hint of a smile so you took that as a victory. 

*****

“You’re probably the last person he’s going to want to see right now,” Steve warned you gently as you passed each other in the hall. Maybe everyone wasn’t as cold to you as you believed they were and it was all in your head. That or Captain America was as notoriously nice as everyone claimed. 

If you hadn’t been dreading seeing him before then you certainly were now. But your entire career had consisted of confronting people in every imaginable circumstance. There was just something much more daunting about approaching an ex than a stranger you planned on seducing to gain information. 

The last time you had had butterflies in your stomach was. . . well it was so long ago that you couldn’t even remember. You were a spy and a damn good one! This is ridiculous! This was nothing personal. The two of you had the chance to take out one of Hydra’s most dangerous and deadliest agents. It was his duty to help and you’d convince him of that. He had been wrapped around your finger once before. You could get him to do this now. 

After knocking on the door and waiting for what seemed like an inappropriately long amount of time, the door was opened only long enough for it to be slammed in your face immediately after. You exhaled slowly and regained your composure. A good spy couldn’t have a temper. 

So you knocked again. 

“Go away,” a growl came from behind the door. 

“Not until we talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Fine. I’ll just talk then,” you huffed and exhaled slowly again. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just about the mission. You know how dangerous Anton is. We both know he helped condition you. Don’t you want to-”

You were interrupted when he opened the door. Having a one-sided conversation through the door was something you had already come to terms with so it tripped you up when he stood in front of you. There was that unfamiliar darkness still resting behind his eyes but you looked deep into them anyway. 

“Don’t you want to remove a variable? There’s only so many people that know your trigger words. And you know he’s dangerous,” you finished. 

“You know the trigger words,” he added. 

It wasn’t until recently that you had learned them. In fact, the only reason you were privy to that knowledge was because you had lied to Anton about needing the words so that you could come return Bucky to him. That wasn’t something you’d admit so he could continue believing that you always knew them. 

“Fine. You can work out removing me as a variable too then. Just after we kill Anton,” you informed him calmly. There was something else you had come to terms with. You could no longer use your body or smooth talking to convince Bucky to do things like you once had. He’d never fall for that again. But if you made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. . . “I won’t even tell the team but I would recommend making it look like an accident.”

Was it guilt that made you offer your life? Maybe. It was a likely possibility. It was also possible that you figured that he wouldn’t have the balls to try it. And if he did, you were sure that you’d survive his attempt; he wouldn’t be the first to try to kill you. But you had hurt him and that darkness in his eyes was unmistakable hatred. If the idea of killing was fuel for his fire, then fine. You’d fan those flames. So long as you got to kill Anton. “Fine,” he agreed.


	4. Well. . . So Much For Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky fly to Florida and confront Anton

The team was so surprised that you had actually convinced Bucky to join the mission that they felt like they had no choice but to let the two of you go. There were conditions, of course. You were both to check in with the team multiple times a day to give updates on the progress of the mission. You were given a short time limit of three days to get in, deal with Anton, and get out. If you couldn’t get it done in three days, the rest of the team was going to come in and handle it yourself. 

You only needed three days. Really, you only needed one. Your time with Anton would be short and the window to attack even narrower. You were nervous. Even if this wasn’t an assassination mission, you’d be nervous. There was just something about Anton that made you uneasy - it could be that he trained you mercilessly through your teenage years or it could be that the two of you had a brief trist years ago. Regardless, you weren’t excited to see him. 

Tony was angry. When he had led you and Bucky to the helicopter you could fly to Florida he hadn’t been expecting you to damage it. But you had drawn your gun and fired a few shots into the frame. With a shrug you explained, “It’s got to look like we stole it.” You slid comfortably into the pilot’s seat. 

“No,” Bucky said from the helipad, his arms crossed across his chest. No one wanted you to fly, least of all him. He’d pilot the helicopter. 

With a laugh you buckled yourself in. “Nice try, soldier but do you know where we are going?”

“You’re going to tell me.” You wanted to argue. It would just be so much simpler if you flew yourself. But Tony and Clint were seeing the two of you off so you felt like you couldn’t start anything without ruining the little bit of trust the team had in you. So you slid into the co-pilot’s seat and Bucky climbed in. 

Soon New York was just a blur behind you. The sound of the chopper blades were the only thing cutting through the uncomfortable silence. It was clear that he was aware you wanted to talk but his energy was so cold that you didn’t dare speak. Not at first anyway. You had only sealed your lips out of respect, not out of fear. You weren’t scared of Bucky; you only felt guilty being around him. 

“I want to talk,” you finally told him.

“If it’s not about the mission then I don’t want to hear it,” he replied. His fingers were itching to snatch his headset right off so that he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the sounds of the helicopter but he wasn’t that childish. He was just guarded and angry because he was hurting. 

*****

Bucky hadn’t come into the coffee shop that morning so it was easy to assume that he had just moved on to his next hiding spot. Damn shame. He seemed like he was just about ready to open up to you. 

But just as the sun kissed the horizon, his strong build passed through the doorway. A smile crept onto your face as you took note of his rosy cheeks. “Would you want to grab a drink?” he asked you bashfully. Knowing what you knew about him, you had to wonder when was the last time he had gone out with a girl. Dating and flirting was a part of your job; seduction was a woman’s most powerful tool. The Winter Soldier was an assassin and his tactics were a little more forward and, in your opinion, a little less fun. 

“I’d actually really like that,” you grinned. It was then that you realized that he had waited until he knew you’d get off “work” to ask. So you grabbed your purse (holding it close to you since the gun and drugs inside would give you away) and followed him out of the shop. His gloved hands were shoved into pockets but he walked alongside you down and around the block to the nearest bar. 

*****

“Just the mission, then,” you promised. One of these days you hoped he would at least allow you to apologize and clear the air. The last thing you’d expect or ask for was forgiveness. His silence was your cue to continue. 

“Your part is simple. No talking. No emotion. Shouldn’t be hard for you,” you began and fought the smirk that tickled at your lips because of the icy daggers his eyes threw at you. Clearly he wasn’t in the mood for teasing (you should’ve known that). “Just pretend that you’re the Winter Soldier and I’m bringing you in. I’ll be the one that gets close enough to kill him. Not you.” 

His grip tightened around the yoke. “You want more blood on your hands?” you asked him. Even if he said that he wouldn’t care, this wasn’t his battle. It was personal for you and you were still the only one likely enough to get close enough to really hurt Anton. 

He relaxed, even if only a little, at your question as he contemplated it. His past was already so bloody. Would he even notice a little more? That said, for his own mental health it was probably for the best that he didn’t. “You seem eager to kill him,” he noted but even through the accusatory tone he wasn’t able to completely mask the jealousy. . . no, it was concern. 

The corner of your mouth twitched irritably. An annoying tell that you thought you had under control. You cracked a smile though there was no warmth. “You worried that this is personal? It is,” you trailed off and looked out of the side window just in time to miss his glance in your direction. 

The rest of the trip was silent but it was more bearable even if only slightly. He grew tense as he began to land the helicopter and, to your surprise, so did you. Neither of you were particularly excited about entering a Hydra base because who knew if you’d be able to make it back out. 

“You promise that the Wakandan girl really got rid of the programming?” you asked before stepping out. That was a question you probably should’ve asked sooner but it had only really dawned on you now. 

“All ten,” he replied grimly and stepped out. You sat there for just a moment. Only ten? No need to concern him. At least the important words seemed to be gone. “And she’s a princess. Not just some girl.” 

You rolled your eyes and pushed a pair of dark sunglasses on your nose. “Just shut up. No speaking unless spoken to from here on out,” you warned him and he replied with a growl. He remembered how it worked. 

After punching in a ten-digit passcode, you were greeted by a rush of cool air conditioning which was a relief from the humid Florida heat. Hushed Russian whispers filled the rooms you passed while screams reverberated from chambers further down. Bucky’s soft soles were a quiet echo following the sharp click of your heels. You weren’t here to hide your presence. 

A stranger wouldn’t have been able to notice a change in your demeanor which was good since that’s how you made a living - blending in and playing a part. Bucky knew you - or at least he knew your body because he felt like he didn’t really know you otherwise. There were little things like the way you casually moved your head around that let him know you were glancing over your shoulder. Your pace had always matched his, falling into a natural rhythm, but now your strides were shorter like you were tricking yourself into thinking you were moving along faster when really you were only taking more steps. You were on edge and Bucky was aware of it. He was concerned that Anton would notice it, too. If he was anything like you said he was, then he absolutely would. 

Without a second glance or moment of hesitation, you pushed into Anton’s office. He didn’t even glance up from his desk. “Why did it take you so long?” he asked you in Russian and you took a seat across from him. Unease finally hit Bucky like a freight train and it took everything in his power to stand there in the doorway, rigid, emotionless, and unmoving. 

“You think it was easy to escape Avenger-level security?” you replied. No fake smiles or acting now. He had taught you nearly everything you knew so he could see right through any facade you attempted to put up. That’s probably what put you on edge the most. Would he see this as a trap?

Anton eyed you curiously and then looked up at Bucky. “Soldat,” he greeted him. Bucky gave the smallest of nods. You’d admit it - you were proud of how well he was holding up.   
“You’ve done well,” he turned his attention back to you. “When you set after him, I did not expect-”

Bucky was connecting the dots and connecting them quickly. He was coming to the wrong conclusions, not that you could blame him. This wasn’t a trap for Anton! It was a trap for him! You couldn’t have him thinking that and so you did something that you’d regret for a very long time. After turning around in your chair to face him, you uttered just loud enough for him to hear, “Sputnik.” 

He fell to the ground unconscious. Shuri had done a fine job removing the ten words used to activate his Winter Soldier mode but those were not the only words programmed into his mind. ‘Sputnik’ was used to shut him down when he was the Winter Soldier. You hadn’t even been sure it would work but here you were. You turned back to Anton knowing full well that your cover was blown. 

*****

You were left wondering why Bucky only had one drink when you were three deep. You could hold your liquor better than you were pretending to but people were usually a little more open to being vulnerable with a drunk person under the perception that a drunk person wouldn’t remember any confessions once they sobered up. 

It didn’t occur to you until later that night that, because of the super serum, Bucky’s metabolism wouldn’t allow him to get drunk. That was a damn shame because he needed to loosen up. “You’re cute, you know that. And mysterious,” you giggled. Being the innocent girly-girl was a go-to because it yielded the most results in most of your targets; it wasn’t your favorite role to play but it paid the bills. Interestingly enough, he didn’t seem to be fully buying into it which means you’d have to backpedal a little bit. 

“You’re friendly and warm,” he replied which caught you off guard. The sleazy men you normally seduced would compliment your body or your looks. You’d never been called warm before. It was actually embarrassing because you blushed and that never happened - not naturally. You were a professional, damnit!

The two of you stared at your mostly empty drink glasses sheepishly and like schoolchildren. “I get a feeling most people aren’t that friendly and warm to you then,” you pieced together. It wasn’t just because you knew his past, or the fact that you really didn’t find yourself to be that warm, but because there was a sadness behind his eyes when he complimented you. Like it was a real treasure to be treated kindly. 

It was then that you decided you weren’t going to seduce this man. At least not like you normally did. You’d play this game fairly. He didn’t reply so you continued. “You always look so sad,” you whispered and your fingertips brushed across his left hand. It was such a feather touch that you weren’t sure if that was his metal hand or not and you couldn’t remember on your own which one it was. He flinched so you pulled your hand away. “Sorry.” 

“No. It’s okay. It’s just been a long time since anyone has touched me,” he explained quietly. Again, it was more sad than embarrassed. You scooted in closer and took his hand in both of yours. He tensed and his fingers stiffened. This was his metal hand; you could feel it but you didn’t mention it. There was a nervousness in his eyes like he was afraid you’d learn this big secret about him so you decided not to press him into revealing his prosthetic to you just yet. 

You curled your fingers around his and offered a warm smile. Normally you’d ask him to come back to your place and you could really get to touching him but that didn’t seem like the right thing to do. In fact, just holding his hand seemed like the best thing you could offer him. 

“Would you want to go see a movie tomorrow?” you asked him and he met your eyes. There was twinkle that was a doing a good job of hiding the sadness and that made you smile. You were here for a mission and it was incredibly irresponsible of you to go on a date - especially with someone that you really should be bringing in to your superiors. 

There was the faintest hint of a grin on his face and he nodded once. “I’d really like that.” 

“It’s a date, then.”


	5. Here's your proof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You explain to Bucky everything that happened after he passed out.

The bathroom door was cracked just enough that you could see Bucky’s silhouette on the bed in the reflection of the mirror. Your muscles ached in a way they never had before. Sore from bruising and then dragging Bucky’s large body to the hotel; it was enough to make you want an ice bath but it’d take too many trips to the hotel’s ice dispenser to get the tub even half full. 

You used the white hotel towels to dab at the blood from your burst lip now that your nose had finally stopped bleeding. The last thing your spinning head needed was a drink but your tongue begged for the taste of vodka. But it was easier to just stick your head under the faucet and drink the cool water so you did that instead. 

A scream rolled up in your throat but was caught behind your teeth. Bucky had woken and moved into the doorway while your head was in the sink. His sudden appearance startled you more than you’d like to admit but you were on edge. 

“What happened?” he asked. His expression softened only slightly when he took in your ragged appearance. Purple and blue blotches painted a mosaic of painful bruises across your broken nose and around your swollen eye. You spat blood in the sink and wiped the red from your lips. To say you were rough on the eyes would be an understatement. 

“Can this please wait?” your hoarse voice scratching at your throat. The knuckles on your left hand were a ghastly white from holding onto the counter so tightly to keep yourself from falling over. It took a lot of focus to keep yourself from just collapsing when it would just be so much easier to let go. But you were stronger than that so you were going to patch yourself up real nice before succumbing to the sweet serenade of sleep. 

He exhaled impatiently but you looked so rough that he didn’t push it further. You lifted your shirt as he turned away to wait on the bed when he caught the briefest glimpse of your skin. It was clear your ribs were broken. Your hands shook as your eyes winced close but you swallowed as much of the pain as you could manage. 

Bucky stepped back into the bathroom and pulled a long bandage out of the little medical bag you had open. You watched his reflection in the mirror as he stepped behind you. With shaky hands, you held your shirt up a little higher. No time for questioning or teasing. You needed help getting your chest wrapped up and you weren’t about to piss him off enough that he would stop. 

His fingers brushed across your skin gingerly as he wrapped the bandage tightly around you. Again, you winced but you remained silent even as tears threatened to form in your eyes. If you weren’t going to cry and scream, then your body was going to find a new way to release the pain. Your limbs shook and trembled to the point where you feared your knees would give in. 

Bucky put your arm around his shoulder. The sudden movement finally enough to break your silence with a pained gasp. He winced in regret but stubbornly did not apologize. He just helped you to the bed where you sat on the side with your head in your hands. 

Had the room been spinning when you entered earlier or had it only begun spinning now? There was a pit in your stomach telling you that it wasn’t unlikely that you had a concussion. Even with all of the bruising and bleeding, confronting Bucky was the thing you were least excited to deal with. 

He leaned against the dresser across from you with his arms crossed over his chest. “What happened?” 

All you wanted was a cup of ice water and a nap. “What do you remember?” you asked him with your eyes closed in an attempt to stabilize the room. 

“No, (Y/N). That’s not how this is going to work,” he said firmly. You were going to have to assume he knew more than he did because if you left something out then he would know you were lying. 

You ran a hand down your face. “Before I came to New York, I needed an excuse to leave base while not putting a target on my back. You know how desperate everyone was to find you once you escaped. . . so I went to Anton with a plan.” Without meeting his eyes, you explained the entire fake mission you had designed. You’d get arrested by the Avengers and then use the trigger words to turn Bucky back into the Winter Soldier. With his help, he’d break you out and the two of you would escape back to a Hydra base. There was a reason that for the first time in years Anton had been spotted in one location - he had been specifically waiting for you to bring him Bucky. 

Bucky’s grip moved to the dresser where the wood splintered under his metallic grip. He opened his mouth to speak but you continued, “No, you asked me what happened and I’m telling you. Let me finish.” He huffed but closed his lips. 

“My intention wasn’t to turn you in to Hydra. But this was my only chance to get out and it was the only way to get rid of Anton,” you explained. 

He wasn’t really buying it. “How do I even know that you killed him and that this isn’t some elaborate setup by Hydra to keep me contained until they can recondition me?” He was paranoid but you supposed he had every reason to be. 

Your face should’ve been evidence enough. Was the swollen mess not proof enough that you had dealt with Anton? Well, you had been afraid no one would believe you so you pushed yourself up from the bed, your joints creaking as if they were aged. You grabbed your little purse and pulled out a handkerchief that you shoved in Bucky’s hands before collapsing back on the bed. 

He opened it up to reveal one finger with a Hydra signet ring on it. “That proof enough for you?” you asked. It was overkill to take a finger but you really didn’t know what else to do. You had been beaten to a pulp, a man with whom you had complicated entanglements with was dead and you needed proof, and you had to handle getting Bucky out of there as inconspicuously as possible. 

“What happened to me then?” he asked. You had only explained up to the point where he had dropped unconscious. That was the part you really were dreading. 

You licked your lips and were greeted by the lingering brass taste of blood. “I had been afraid to explain everything to you before we got here because I was afraid you’d turn the helicopter around and we would lose our only chance to kill Anton. I also knew that when you heard him congratulating me on bringing you in that you’d get angry at me. Our cover was going to be blown no matter what and I couldn’t focus on killing Anton if I had to worry about you attacking me, too. There are a few more trigger words you probably need knocked out of your head. . .” you admitted bashfully.

Finally, you looked up and met his eyes. They were cold but there was something else behind them that you were having trouble reading. He was hurt and angry. . . but he seemed to believe you, which wasn’t something you had been expecting. 

So you continued. “Once you hit the floor, I knew Anton had caught on to everything. He was going to kill me but he takes these sorts of things personally. He beat the shit out of me, Buck,” your voice hitched. It was embarrassing that you got emotional but you hadn’t been allowed to be sad earlier. As much as you hated Anton, he had been a very large part of most of your life and had his claws in pretty deep. It had also just been really hard for him, of all people, to beat you so close to death. 

“I don’t know how I managed it, but I was able to stab him. He was so shocked that I had actually gotten a hit in that the following strikes came easily. I took his finger and dragged you back here,” your voice had fallen to a whisper now. 

You laid back on the bed and closed your eyes. Deep breath in, deeper breath out. You’re fine. You’re good. 

If ever there was a time for Bucky to remove you from the equation, it would’ve been now. You were so vulnerable and completely lacked the strength to defend yourself. Anton was dead and the mission was over. He could just say that Anton killed you. Your only chance for survival would be if you read his bluff back at the Tower and so you prayed he really didn’t want to kill you. 

He stood there in silence for a while and soaked it all up. “Never use a trigger on me again,” he told you with such conviction that you learned in that moment he did have it in him to kill you. But only if you tried something like that again. 

“I promise.”

Whether or not he believed your promise, you weren’t sure because he just left the room. The purr of the air conditioner kicking on hit your ears like a welcome lullaby. The cold air passing over your damaged skin felt like kisses from an angel. You just wished that you had made it up to Bucky instead of seemingly making things worse. 

*****

You had invited Bucky over to your little apartment. Even though it was a temporary arrangement, it was cute and homey. You had to commit to each undercover role you played. 

He was bashful which was cute. “I can take your jacket,” you offered. He still hadn’t told you about his metal arm and you wondered if it was because he was afraid you’d know who he was or because he was afraid he couldn’t think of a good enough lie to explain it. 

“That’s alright,” he said and looked around your place. It wasn’t your own personal style but it was definitely very “Mariana” which is the current role you played. He glanced at the couch and then at you. You laughed gently. Was he really asking permission to sit? He was adorable. 

Bucky sat down on the little couch and looked at the little things you had framed on the walls. You slipped into the small kitchen and poured two teas. He might be a big, bad assassin but he was American so he liked his tea sweet so there were several extra sugars in his cup than in yours. You took a seat beside him on the couch, close enough that your knee would occasionally brush against his. 

“I’m glad you agreed to come over,” you said softly. It had taken you a few hours to remove the bugs placed in your apartment - you were on a mission to gather intel so sometimes there were people you invited over to your place; if they confessed something it was caught on recording. He didn’t deserve that so you had moved them all into a little lockbox in the closet. It really was just the two of you tonight. It was kind of a nice relief for you, too. 

Your fingers played with the ends of his hair as you sipped your tea. His skin was warm and he smiled. Happy tingles traveled down his spine. Gentle, intimate touches meant more to him than you could ever begin to understand. “I’m glad you invited me,” he replied. His place was kind of a dump so he was too embarrassed to ask you over. 

“You’ve never told me why you wear the gloves,” you asked. There was something about it that just drove you crazy! When was he going to tell you about his arm?! Was he ever planning on it? 

He sat the little cup down and looked at his hands. He was conflicted on whether or not he should tell you and it was clearly weighing on him more than you thought it would. “Hey, it’s fine. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you assured him. As much as you wanted his confession, you could live without it if it was going to stress him out so much. 

Your eyes locked on his and it was as if all the clouds in the sky just suddenly disappeared; he looked at you as if you were the sun. Oh what a lovestruck puppy he was! You were just so gentle and patient with him. After decades of abuse, it made his heart swell. 

There weren’t words. What would he say? He wasn’t sure even though he had been thinking about it for some time now. He was too ashamed to tell you the truth but he also didn’t want to lie. So he kept his lips sealed and pulled his gloves off slowly - the right first and then the left. 

It was the first time you really got to see it so it wasn’t too difficult to feign surprise. You took both of his hands in yours and felt them - the rough calluses on his flesh and the smooth ridges of metal. You pulled his metal hand up to your cheek but he pulled it away. “Sorry. . . but just. . . please don’t.” 

There he went again, breaking your heart. “No, I’m sorry,” you apologized. It was strange because, even though you were playing a character, you had never felt so consistently honest. It wasn’t just with him that you felt you were truthful (mostly anyway) but with yourself; you actually let yourself feel empathy and it was a very nice change of pace. 

He met you in the middle and caressed your cheek with his flesh hand. You leaned into his touch and heard his breath hitch in his chest. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to,” you whispered and closed your eyes. 

“I was a soldier. Lost it in combat,” he told you. You weren’t actually sure if that was the truth but it felt like it was so you believed him and didn’t push him any further. Your fingers did make their way back to his metal hand and you pressed his palm to his until the cool metal grew warm from your touch. 

The energy filling the ever shrinking space between the two of you was electric. Next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. Or yours were on his. In fact, you don’t even remember who made the first move. It didn’t matter. His kiss was so tender and sweet that your body melted into a helpless puddle pressed against him. 

*****

You must’ve been falling asleep because you didn’t even hear the door open or the lock click. Your instincts were much better than that but you were just so tired that it didn’t even matter anymore. 

Luckily it wasn’t anyone trying to kill you. Your eyes opened in surprise at the wonderful sensation of an ice bag being pressed to your forehead. The bed dipped to the right as Bucky took a seat on the side of the bed and held the cold to your head. Your eyes slowly, comfortably shut again. Your hand searched for his and, like a magnet, found it easily. His right hand held the bag against your bruised skin and metal fingers curled around your own.


	6. Can't You Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky argue about your past relationship - lots of swearing and yelling

Bucky’s metal hand moved underneath your shirt until his fingers latched around your bra. If he cared enough to be nimble he might’ve been able to take it off a little more gracefully; but instead he used strength to break the clasp which caused the straps to fall off your shoulders. 

You climbed onto his hips, careful not to break the heated kiss. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth. Your quiet gasp caused him to smirk. He pulled your shirt off over your head and you let gravity do the rest of the work with the bra, the straps rolling past your wrists until you were bare in front of him. 

His left hand brushed against your nipple, the cool of the metal causing them to stiffen. His right hand holding the back of your head as he set your captive lip free just so his tongue could snake its way over yours. 

Your hands (which had been wrapped around his neck) moved down his chest until your fingers hooked around his belt. With the skill and precision that came from plenty of practice, you undid the buckle and pulled the belt off. You held it in both hands and snapped the leather which caused him to laugh. It was only then that you realized that was the first time you had really heard him laugh beyond an amused snicker or polite chuckle. It was a nice sound so you made a promise to yourself to get him to do it more often. 

He took the belt from your grasp and wrapped it around your wrists, pulling it tightly so that your hands were bound together. You raised your eyebrow and gave him a curious look. For only a moment he was afraid he had crossed some sort of boundary. Those worries faded as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him back to your lips. 

The bulge in his pants was no longer ignorable. It pressed against his dark jeans and into the inside of your thighs. Your lips travelled across his jaw and down his neck, careful not to leave a mark - hickeys were for schoolchildren.

He worked on pulling your shorts down. It was inadvertent that your panties were snagged as he quickly undressed you in one swift motion. Your breath hitched and his heart rate quickened. You began to roll your hips against his but he was not in the mood to be teased so he wasn’t wasting any time in pulling down his own pants to take you there and then on the couch in your living room. 

His fingers dug into your hips as you helped adjust over top of him. His blue eyes locked with yours as he entered your body. 

*****

You turned your head to the left and squinted as the sunlight peeked in through the crack in the curtains. Your black eye had swollen to the point that it was difficult to see out of and your body ached like it had rolled the entire way down a mountain.

Bucky was sitting in a rather uncomfortable-looking chair in the corner. Your vision was blurry so you weren’t sure if he was awake or asleep until he spoke up, “You’ve been out twenty hours.” 

“Twenty?” you repeated. “You’ve just been sitting there for twenty hours?” 

He glanced towards the window and didn’t reply. You had been sarcastic (mostly) so his silence was a surprise. Surely he would’ve found something to do for the near-day you were out cold. “You get any sleep?” You were only met with more silence. So you inquired further, “Bucky, did you watch me this whole time?” 

“Wasn’t sure if Hydra was going to come looking for us or not so one of us had to stay up,” he answered. A small smile crept onto your face. Sure, maybe some of it had been self-preservation but he had been making sure you stayed safe, too. 

“They’re definitely looking for us,” you assured him. “Just depends on if they’re able to find us.” They were probably scrambling at the loss of Anton who was a very vital player on their side of the game. 

You exhaled slowly and winced in pain. It was going to take a fair amount of time for all of the swelling and bruising to go down enough that you wouldn’t be in pain. Asking for him to retrieve the painkillers you had stowed in your bag felt like you were pushing it too far so you forced yourself to sit up. 

The pain had definitely intensified now that the adrenaline had worn off in your sleep. But you refused to cry. He watched you stumble across the room and into the bathroom where you downed mouthfuls of water from the sink before taking what felt like too few pills. 

“I thought you’d leave me,” you confessed quietly in the bathroom and sank to the ground, too exhausted to even make it back to the bed. Your confession had been so quiet that you didn’t think he would hear you but his frame soon shadowed you on the floor. 

“I’m not like you. I wasn’t going to leave you when you needed me” he replied. Ow. Was he ever going to forgive you for leaving? 

You glanced up and met his eyes, still the same dazzling blue as always. “That’s not fair,” you whispered, finally defending yourself. “You know why I had to leave.” 

He pursed his lips. “No. You don’t get to use that as an excuse,” he scolded you. The last thing he wanted to hear were excuses about how you were stuck working for Hydra and couldn’t get out. “You know you could’ve. . .” It felt strange to admit it now. But you could’ve run away with him. He could’ve protected you or he would’ve died trying. 

“Look at how well you handled learning my real profession,” you frowned and forced yourself to stand. He may tower over you but that didn’t mean you would shrink underneath his scrutiny. Now may be your only chance to clear the air and explain yourself so you were going to do so. You were absolutely ready to own up to your mistakes and shortcomings but he was not going to get away with acting like a bigger saint than he really was. 

You jabbed at his chest with your pointer finger. “You nearly blew a gasket when you found out I was Hydra which is bullshit and you know it!” you exclaimed. 

He furrowed his brow and grabbed your wrist tightly with his left hand. “You think I’m unjustified in my anger? You took advantage of my vulnerability. I told you things. . . things I never told anyone else. And you took them back to the men who did this to me in the first place,” he growled. His grip tightened enough that you actually felt the circulation cut off and your fingers grow cold. 

“You’re an idiot, you know that? An absolute, fucking idiot!” you yelled and yanked on your hand but he didn’t let go. “Do you seriously believe I told them anything about you? Not only would they have killed me for not bringing you in, but don’t you think they would’ve found you themselves? I kept you safe and didn’t tell a soul a single thing about you!” 

It dawned on him that that must be true. He had been able to remain in Bucharest until Steve (and the other authorities) came looking for him after he had been framed for the UN bombing. But the only taste of Hydra he had after you left was when he returned to Siberia to chase Zemo which didn’t really count since he hadn’t interacted with a single Hydra agent during that interaction. 

“Then what did you want with me? Trying to screw around with my head? What?!” he demanded. 

You finally snatched your hand away, your fingers numb and tingling. There’d be another bruise to your growing collection. “You ever consider that maybe I was just interested in you? Damnit, James,” you huffed angrily. He sidestepped out of the way as you pushed out of the bathroom. 

He followed you as you left the hotel room and moved towards the elevator. You just needed to get out, get some fresh air, and clear your head. You stepped inside the elevator but he caught it with his hand before it could close. He stepped inside and hit the button to close the door. “Someone like you, knowing who I am, would’ve had some agenda,” he explained to you.

You only scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. Once the elevator hit the ground floor you moved out to the pool deck where a couple of kids splashed around in the water while their parents played on their phones. Bucky wouldn’t leave you alone so you exited through the gate and into the parking lot. “You want to know the truth? My gut instinct was to call Anton and tell him that I had found you but you looked so sad that I couldn’t convince myself to do it,” you spat at him. You had been a fool, a damn fool, for thinking that this conversation could’ve gone civilly. You had never really had an outburst like this before and it was kind of cathartic even if it was stressful and upsetting at the same time, too. 

Bucky ran a hand down his face. “So you pitied me?” 

You stomped your foot and groaned angrily. Why was he twisting your words?! “Would you just listen to me?! Just listen okay?” He jammed his fists in his pockets and looked at you expectantly. “I had wanted to leave Hydra for a while but I was too cowardly to try up until a couple months ago. When I saw you and saw how broken you looked, I couldn’t bring myself to drag you back into something I was trying to escape.”

“It still sounds like pity,” he grumbled. He was reducing everything the two of you had gone through to pity which was like a punch to the gut. Everything you had felt had been real and leaving him had been one of the most difficult decisions you had ever had to make. For him to reduce your feelings to just pity stung more than you imagined it would. 

“Fuck you. Do you know how many times I could’ve turned you in? If it wasn’t for me then you’d be a brainwashed assassin again. So you know what, you should be thankful that there was pity,” your voice raising with each word until you were screaming. You never felt so loud. “I saved your life.” 

“So I should be thanking you?” he questioned grimly. His lips curled into a displeased frown. “Fine. Thank you. Thank you for stringing me along for your pleasure and gain. Thank you for doing one decent thing in your life and not turning me in. I guess I should be worshipping the ground you walk on.” 

The sarcasm dripping from his words fell from his tongue like venom. You were so mad that your body didn’t know how to react - you had spent your entire life swallowing your own emotions - so you laughed. “Fuck you, Bucky. Honestly, fuck you.” You didn’t need his thanks. All you wanted was his understanding. 

You didn’t even know you were crying until he scoffed, “Seriously? You think I’m going to buy that?” You were a spy, a masterful actress that could play any part you wanted. Why couldn’t you play the victim here? You wiped your cheek and looked at the tear on your hand. Deep breath in. Deeper breath out. 

“I didn’t want to drag you into a life I was trying to escape,” you reiterated slowly and carefully now that you had regained your composure. No more yelling. No more crying. No more outbursts. “I saw this sadness in your eyes and I didn’t feel pity. I felt empathy, Bucky. I knew exactly how you felt. You think our lives were really that different?” 

You were dizzy from yelling and, even though the painkillers had started to kick in, your body felt weak and you needed to sit. To avoid further fighting, you moved back in through the gate and sat by the poolside. One of the families had gone inside which meant there was an open table. You plopped down in a creaky, wooden chair that was in the shade of an umbrella. 

Surely Bucky wouldn’t cause a scene in here. You were too tired to fight anymore. It had been nice to actually get angry for once, to get upset. But it had been emotionally exhausting for your normally reserved self. You rested your head in your hands. Bucky silently moved in through the gate and stood by the empty chair for awhile trying to decide if he should join you or not. The sound of his boots faded as he moved inside and back to the hotel room. 

*****

Bucky’s fingers brushed through your hair which sent tingles down your spine causing you to chuckle happily. He laid beside you staring deep into your eyes. It was an intimacy that you normally avoided. They say that eyes are the windows to the soul. As a spy, it was better that people didn’t try and read too deep into you. But his gaze felt friendly and curious.

His eyes were just so dazzling that you wouldn’t have been able to look away anyway. The two of you had been officially dating for some time now, fooling around for just about the same amount of time. He craved touch and in return he offered what you truly desired: affection. Not just sexual touching - real affection. 

He loved when the two of you became one but he was always touching you without the intention of getting you naked. The gentle kisses on your shoulder. The way he’d brush your hair from your face when you came home to him. The inescapable grip he’d hold you in when the nightmares stirred him from his sleep and you were all that grounded him. You meant something to him. Really meant something to him. And it filled you with a warmth you had never known before. For the first time, you understand what sex and what love were. Before Bucky, they had been nothing more than weapons you utilized. 

Your stomach would churn with guilt every time you gazed in his eyes. It was like he was giving you a tiny piece of himself. You assumed he felt like he was getting a piece of you, too. Maybe, in a way, he was. But he didn’t truly know you. Know (Y/N). He only knew “Marianna” and the character you played. Even if you let your true self shine though, she would always be guarded by the facade of a little Romanian waitress. 

Even so, it didn’t change how you felt. And when he pulled your body in close so he could rest his head against your chest, using your heartbeat as his lullaby, you knew for the first time just how good it was to be loved and to love in return. And it was true.

You loved him. 

When his breathing slowed and his grip around you loosened, you finally felt safe enough to whisper, “I love you.” You were too afraid to admit it. Of course you knew how love could be used as a weapon and so the concept of being in love terrified you as much as it excited you. And yet, you had to say it. And you prayed that the words would echo in his dreams and that he would know. 

*****

You could’ve sat outside in the Florida sun all day. But you hadn’t eaten since yesterday and you really needed to take a long shower to try and release the tension and soothe the aches in your body. With some reluctance, you moved inside and dropped a few coins into a vending machine until you were rewarded with a pack of cookies and a candy bar. 

Unsure if Bucky would be waiting for you or if he was halfway back to New York, you opened the hotel door. He was sat on the edge of the bed and just barely glanced in your direction as you came in. You shut the door behind you and leaned up against it. 

“You left the day after I told you who I was,” he said, his demeanor calm and sad. “I guess now I know you knew the whole time. But then. . . I thought you left because of who I was.” It was kind of painful but you knelt in front of him and took his hands in yours. 

“What did I tell you when you told me then?” 

Bucky met your eyes, his hands limp in yours. “You told me that it was okay and that you weren't afraid because you loved me,” he whispered. But it hadn’t felt like the truth because you had disappeared suddenly the next day leaving him feeling more vulnerable than he ever had before. 

You gave his hands a squeeze. There were so many things that you could’ve said. You could’ve told him that you had meant every word you said throughout the relationship. You could’ve apologized for leaving him when you did. You could’ve said something, anything. But you just kissed his knuckles and moved into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you so you could shower.


	7. Thought you could learn to trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a hard time letting go which really pisses you off

The two of you climbed back into the helicopter to begin the trip back to New York. Some of the swelling had gone down and you were able to better see out of your black eye, now. But you were still a hot mess and it was time to go back so you could get some proper medical care. 

There was still a deafening silence shared between you and Bucky but it was less hostile and more confused. Everything (more or less) was out in the air now but that didn’t mean that everything was automatically fixed. Bucky still hurt even if he was a little more understanding about it. 

He had spent the past year thinking that no one could really ever love him. He had told you that he had been brainwashed and had killed people - so many people. You left him after that so what was he supposed to think? His already low self-esteem dropped dangerously low to the point where some days he lacked the energy to even get out of bed. Being back around Steve had really helped but it still wasn’t enough to get you out of his head. 

Then when you came back into his life. . . he couldn’t even be happy because it wasn’t you. The girl he had fallen in love with was nothing more than a part you had played. It left him feeling angry, used and dirty, betrayed, and lonely. You got to see him - raw and real. He didn’t even know who you were. 

You weren’t sure what else to say so you stared out of the window for the majority of the flight. Your cards had been played so it was his move. And if he didn’t want to make a move. . . well, you couldn’t blame him for it. At least he knew your side of the story even if he didn’t quite believe that what you had felt before was real. 

After landing on the helipad on the Avengers’ Tower, Steve and Natasha came to greet you. “What happened?” Steve’s smile had faded. The fact that the two of you had returned was a good sign but you still looked like a literal trainwreck. 

After digging around in your bag, you dropped the handkerchief with Anton’s finger and ring in Steve’s hand. “It’s finished,” you told him quietly before moving inside to lay down. Natasha showed you to the medical bay where you were given some really nice painkillers. After a few x-rays you were rolled into surgery. You had pushed through the pain without realizing just how bad the internal damage was. There had been a lot of internal bleeding and your ribs were fractured in a way that was causing some damage to the organs that it was supposed to be protecting. It explained why breathing had hurt. 

You were put under for the surgery and came to later that night. The painkillers you were on were doing a pretty good job of masking both the pain from your injuries and from the surgery. Since you had been expecting to wake up alone, it was a surprise to see Natasha at your bedside, flipping lazily through a magazine with her feet propped up on your bed. 

“So what do you want?” you asked, your lips curling into a coy smile. She wasn’t here just to hang out. Hadn’t you done enough to prove you could be trusted? Could she really be here to keep watch over you? Now that would really hurt your feelings. 

Nat tossed the magazine onto a little side table and pulled her feet to the floor. “Bucky debriefed the team on what happened,” she explained slowly enough that your stomach dropped to your stomach. Keeping a secret wasn’t the best way to earn trust but you didn’t want everyone to know every little detail of what happened. Surely they’d react poorly if they learned that Anton had sent you here or if you had used a trigger word on Bucky. So much for becoming an Avenger. 

“He said that Anton used a trigger word on him to knock him unconscious which is why you took the beating instead of him. You’ll just have to fill in the gaps that he couldn’t fill in. He said that you killed Anton and dragged him out of there?” 

Bucky hadn’t tattled on you? Why? For whatever reason, you didn’t feel assured by this. It felt like blackmail but that could also just be the spy in you being overly cautious. “Just as he said. I took a beating but managed to stab Anton. Got Bucky out of there as soon as I could,” you informed her. 

It was always harder lying to a spy since they also knew the tricks and tools of the trade. But she was giving you the benefit of the doubt. That - and she had no reason to doubt what Bucky had said. You closed your eyes and sighed. “Does this mean I can join the team now?” you asked. 

Natasha chuckled. “More or less,” she said and stood from her seat. After giving the intel to destroy a Hydra base and then after killing Anton, you had proved that you were no longer loyal to Hydra. Since you definitely didn’t have a past more troubled than anyone else’s the team had agreed to stop giving you such a hard time. 

“If you’re feeling up to it, Stark’s throwing a birthday party for Banner’s birthday tomorrow night. You should come,” she invited before leaving you to rest some more. Look at you - no longer a threat AND invited to an infamous Avengers party. 

*****

Of course you still ached but what was a little bit of pain? Because of the binding around your chest your clothing options became a little more limited. These events were your bread and butter. Drunk men spilled secrets to pretty girls like you wouldn’t believe. But this wasn’t a job - this was a real party you got to attend for fun. 

So instead of dressing to seduce, you dressed to impress. You were a classy woman who was going to have some fun for the first time in her life. That reflected in the simple yet elegant silver evening gown you had donned. It was difficult to keep your hands raised above your head for extended periods of time so you opted out of a styled look and chose to simply rock your natural look. 

When you entered the party (fashionably late as one does), heads turned. No more hiding in the shadows. The stares didn’t linger and men weren’t drooling; that was a nice change of pace, too. You moved over to the bar and ordered yourself something a little strong since you didn’t need to remain sober and vigilant. You could seriously get used to this life. 

Three drinks in and you could feel the comfortable burn of intoxication slowly spreading throughout your body and into your limbs. Sitting on the couch with Sam, Wanda, and Vision, your eyes glowed happily and a jovial laugh erupted from your chest.

Friends. These people felt like friends. They welcomed you with only a little trepidation but relaxed quickly when you shared a few stories about the worst men you had been with in order to get information. One of your personal favorites was when a middle-aged man sang so loudly in the shower that it scared away the birds that had been chirping in the trees just outside the window. 

Sam was very funny and surprisingly welcoming. You sat beside him for a majority of the night just laughing and smiling. The two of you shared a nice, natural repertoire. It helped that he was pretty charming and quite handsome. Anyone who knew anything about body language could tell that the two of you were hitting it off. Your body was turned in towards his and his posture reflected your own. 

Bucky came over and sat across from the two of you. “I thought I’ve had some crazy exes but this girl has gone out with some of the wildest people!” Sam shared. Your laugh quieted down and you lowered your gaze. How was Bucky to know that you hadn’t mentioned him once. 

“Did she mention that she led me on for months in Bucharest for nothing more than her own amusement?” Bucky frowned. So much for being past this! What had happened?! He was nervous you were sharing embarrassing stories about him but, more importantly, he was jealous. His jealousy just read as anger to the point that he didn’t even realize that he was jealous. 

The confusion on Sam’s face made clear that Bucky really hadn’t told anyone that the two of you had gone out before. It was something you had assumed he kept secret to mask his own shame and embarrassment and you hadn’t been quite wrong. It seemed like he no longer cared, though. 

“No, go ahead, (Y/N). Tell him how you knew that I was in a vulnerable position and pretended to be sweet, innocent Marianna,” Bucky encouraged and leaned back in his seat. Was he seriously enjoying this?! Why weren’t you allowed to have a good time?   
Sam exhaled sharply. “I’m going to go grab a drink,” he excused himself. He left because there was clearly some beef that the two of you clearly needed to work out but it felt like he left because Bucky had successfully scared him off. 

“Well, looks like you got what you wanted,” you snapped and slammed the rest of your drink back before standing up. “I won’t have any friends here. I seriously thought we were over this.” How could he be so childish?! You had explained everything to him and then had given him space. Clearly you had been having a good time with Sam so why did he have to ruin that. 

“Just protecting Sam from making the same mistake I made,” Bucky stated plainly. 

“Absolutely fucking ridiculous,” you muttered angrily under your breath and moved outside. The cool air was sharp against your skin because of the altitude. The balcony was lovely and decorated with lots of beautiful, soft lights and greenery but the cutting wind made it a little less enjoyable. 

You plopped down on a bench and looked out at the night sky, pretending that the flickering lights of airplanes were stars. To your surprise, Steve came out and sat beside you. “I’m trying, Steve,” you confessed with a breathy sigh. 

He just stared out at the sky with you. “I know you are. But you should know how he is. He’s having a really hard time with forgiving and forgetting right now. He was broken and quiet for a long time. I think it was guilt that was eating him up.”

You turned your focus to Captain America. He really was an attractive man with his strong jaw and gentle eyes. There was more to it though, he felt steady and he was anchor to everyone around him. What kind of toll did that have on his psyche, you wondered. 

Continuing, he said, “Then all of a sudden he seemed so angry. I think he’s still just struggling with coming to terms with everything and he’s burying all of that sadness with anger. So you can’t take anything too personally.”

“I don’t know. It feels like he has every right to be angry with me. I just thought we had smoothed things over and now it feels like he’s trying to sabotage my life here,” you expressed your concern. “I’ve hurt him before. I led him on and broke his heart.”

“I know.” 

“You know?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I know. Listen, I’m not going to pretend that what you did wasn’t wrong but you’re here now and making amends. The rest of the team sees that. Bucky just needs some time to move on. If you’d believe it, he was good with the ladies back in our day. Rejection isn’t something he’s used to. His reaction to everything right now is just anger.”

Oddly enough, that did make you feel a little better. “It still feels personal. And I just want to make things okay,” you said. If anyone would know how to get through to Bucky, it would be his lifelong friend. 

“Best I advice I can offer is to give him some time. He’ll come around eventually,” Steve suggested. “Probably best if you don’t flirt with Sam right now either.” You scrunched your nose because you had definitely hit it off with Sam. He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder and invited you back inside.

What you did next was probably not the most responsible or wise decision. But you weren’t about to let Bucky ruin the first real party you got to attend so you moved to the bar and drank away the rest of the night. 

Most of the party was a blur but there was cheering and laughing and applauding that must’ve been the result of your dancing (which was probably less fluid and graceful than you figured it was due to inebriation). You felt good and you felt happy. 

But it had been so long since you had been good and properly drunk that you forgot how your body reacted to alcohol. If you weren’t being entertained and stimulated, you turned angry. Almost everyone had retired to their rooms by this point so you were left alone to stew in your emotions. 

Storming down the long hallway, you paused in front of the closed door. The voice in the back of your head screamed for you to reconsider your actions because you’d have to deal with the consequences in the morning and you’d have to deal with them sober. Luckily for you, you listened. 

Unluckily, you didn’t listen that well. Instead of knocking on Sam’s door with the intention of sleeping with him just to piss off Bucky, you were going to confront the Winter Soldier himself. Your fist banged against his door until he swung it open. He looked exhausted but that didn’t stop you from swinging a fist in his direction.


	8. Honestly, I'm tired of this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You confront Bucky in an angry, drunken stupor.
> 
> A little shorter of a chapter but I hope the angst makes up for it...

Bucky stumbled backwards as your fist connected with his jaw. “You know what? You don’t have to go around ruining my life just because you couldn’t handle a breakup!” you scolded him. You took another swing at him which he managed to dodge. 

That only further infuriated you. Kicking your legs back, you snatched the heels off of your feet to use as a weapon. “Let’s just end this then,” you growled. Clearly he had been itching for a fight this whole time. . . or at least, that’s how it felt. It would be good for the two of you to blow off some steam. 

You were in no condition to fight and that wasn’t even accounting for how drunk you were; your body was still healing. Luckily, Bucky hadn’t forgotten that you were still broken and bruised otherwise he would’ve been much harder on you. Instead, for now, he chose to remain on the defensive. 

He ducked just in time as you threw your left heel for his face which would’ve left a nice mark. You went to swipe out his legs but he knocked you over onto your butt instead. Using your remaining heel, you jabbed him in his leg which finally brought him down with you. 

You lunged towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck to choke him out. Coming here, your intention hadn’t been to kill him. Even now, that really wasn’t what you were trying to do. You were just so angry and your head was clouded with emotion - an obstacle it wasn’t used to overcoming since you had spent a majority of your life swallowing any emotion that threatened to surface. 

His head was tucked tightly in between your arms. He tried tapping out but when he realized that you weren’t relenting, he had to take things further than he wanted to. To say that he didn’t want to toss a few swings would be a lie, but he was afraid of breaking you. But since you were basically trying to kill him, he had to step up just a little. He used his metal arm to reach over and grab a handful of your dress. He yanked you violently to the side, tearing himself out of your grip. 

You slid across the floor and into the wall. The air had been completely knocked out of your fragile lungs. Coughing and gasping, you punched the ground and forced yourself to regain composure. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Another deep breath in because it was hard to breathe. 

Bucky stood and towered over you. He attempted to help you up but you took that as a sign of continued aggression. So you smacked his hand away and forced yourself to stand on your own. Guarding your face with your fists, you bounced on your toes, ready to continue rumbling. 

Enough was enough and Bucky just wanted to get back to bed so he curled his fingers into fists. If you wanted a fight, then so be it. He was going to end this and end this quickly. You charged at him and he knocked you back easily. His goal was still to try and not hurt you but to wear you out. It was working. You stood panting and wheezing in the corner, completely exhausted from being pushed back over and over without landing another proper hit. It was frustrating!

“I’m sick of it! You’re so mean to me and I hate it!” you yelled at him childishly. You ran forward and hit his chest until he grabbed your wrists. “I’m sad, too. I never wanted to leave you,” you started to sob. Had you been sober, this never would’ve happened. How unprofessional. 

“Just let me-” you interrupted yourself by attempting to hit him again but his grip around your wrists only tightened. The tears streaming down your face dripped from your chin. Your legs felt weak and the next thing you knew you were on your knees, your hands high above your head as his grip was unrelenting. 

He pulled you back to your feet and sat you on the edge of his bed before kneeling in front of you. “You can’t come to my room in the middle of the night to attack me,” he explained what should’ve already been a pretty clear and unspoken rule. 

You wiped away the tears but they kept flowing so steadily that it hardly made a difference. “Is that all you have to say to me?” you whispered, completely exasperated. 

Bucky exhaled slowly and stood up to pace around the room. He ran a hand through his hair as his lips fumbled to find the words. He slammed his fist against the wall which caused you to jump. Why was he suddenly so angry? 

It clicked. He was just as confused with his own emotions as you were. You slipped from the bed and, before he could even realize what you were doing, your arms were around his neck. His head comfortably fit in the crook of your neck and he breathed you in. 

His hands moved across your waist and pulled you flush against him. You breathed him in, the faint smell of whiskey masked by his natural leather musk; he had always smelled like a man - a real man. His steady breathing was a nostalgic lullaby that made you feel safe and at home. The gentle brush of his nose and lips against your collarbone felt the same as it did a year ago. He was so familiar.

*****

You crawled over top of Bucky, keeping him straddled underneath you. Your hands slowly traced the outline of his biceps before slipping down to his hands where you tangled your fingers with his. He leaned up and pecked at your lips. 

He rolled you around so that you were pinned beneath him. His lips moved from your own and down your neck to your collarbone. A girlish giggle vibrated through your chest - the sweetest tune he had ever heard. You smelled of raspberries and lavender from the combination of different smelling shampoos and lotions.   
“You’re the best thing to happen to me,” Bucky whispered to you. A knot formed in your stomach and only partially out of guilt. Loving and being loved were different things and, though he didn’t explicitly mention it (just as you didn’t), it was clear in the things he said just how he felt about you. 

“Likewise,” you whispered and brushed your fingers through his long hair, curling the ends around your fingertips. 

*****

Bucky breathed you in; strawberries and roses. Similar but not the same. He lifted his head and met your eyes, the contact so intimate and close that, before you knew what you were doing, you were on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his. 

He pulled away and moved across the room to his bed. You were left standing there in your own shame and humiliation. You spun to face him as he spoke, “You don’t get to do that. I don’t even know you.” 

“That’s not true. You do know me,” you promised him. Maybe you had lied about your name and your history but those were just bullet points created for bibliographies. “Everything I felt for you was real. That was me, Buck.”

He shook his head and wrung his hands. “No, I don’t know you. I know how you kiss and how you fuck. I know you lied. I don’t even know a thing about you, (Y/N).” He looked angry and pained; and he had every right. 

“I messed up,” you admitted and moved to his side. You tried taking his hand in his but he wouldn’t allow it which just further added to the humiliation of rejection. “I shouldn’t have lied to you but I had no idea that things would play out like they did. What was I supposed to do? Just admit to you that I was Hydra?”

“You should’ve never played games with me at all,” Bucky frowned. That. . . was, unfortunately, a really good point. 

“Do you regret it, then?” You asked, completely fearing his answer. 

Bucky swallowed what felt like an entire boulder. “Looking back, you saved me from a time when I wasn’t sure I could keep going. But for the longest time, yes. I regretted it.” It hit you like an arrow to the chest. Your heart skipped a beat and the room spun. So this is what heartbreak really felt like. 

“I made a mistake. But I don’t regret it,” you told him stoically. It was a damn shame that he did. You pinched the bridge of your nose to keep yourself from bursting into tears again. Damn this alcohol! You were never getting drunk again! Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to swallow the sadness. 

Bucky wiped away your tear. “I don’t regret it,” he whispered. You had reminded him, even if that idea had been dashed when you left, that he was worth being loved and his life was worth living. He was still hurting and sometimes he did things just to hurt you. It wasn’t right and he knew it. “I shouldn’t have said I did.” 

Your gaze met his and you felt that same, familiar electricity you had before. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his. This time he didn’t pull away. His lips were just as soft as you remembered them being. He could taste the vodka on your own lips and wondered if he was taking advantage of you. 

But that wasn’t his concern as you crawled onto his lap and held his face. He pulled away again, this time more gently. His hands were on your hips and he stared into your sad puppy-dog eyes. “I don’t know you, (Y/N),” he repeated. This may feel familiar to you but it didn’t to him. He knew you physically but that wasn’t enough for him. 

“But you can know me. You can,” you assured him and ran your fingers through his hair, twirling the ends around your fingertips. He closed his eyes and the familiar sensation sent a tingle down his spine. 

He moved you off of his lap. “You’re drunk, (Y/N). Let’s just get you to bed,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to consider getting to know you - the real you. He still saw so much red when he looked at your face and, when he didn’t, he saw Marianna. He wasn’t sure if that could ever change. And even if it did, who was to say that he could fall in love with you the way you were? 

You wanted to talk about it now but the energy had completely drained from your body. He scooped you up like a princess and you rested your head against his shoulder as he carried you to your room and laid you down in bed. It wasn’t his place to see you naked anymore so he didn’t try and undress you. 

He tried leaving your side but you took his hand. “I love you,” you whispered and looked at him sadly. He just pulled his hand away and practically ran out of the room. It wasn’t fair of you to do that to him. It wasn’t fair. 

Not when he loved you, too. Or at least, not when he thought he did or wanted to.


	9. Can You Trust Me Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to get to know the real you by playing 20 questions. 
> 
> So cliche and unbelievable, I know. But come on, it's one of the best tropes isn't it? 
> 
> A/N: Story is getting closer to the end here. I didn't plan far enough ahead so just a couple more chapters. Love you guys and thank you for hanging in there :) <3

Most of last night was a blur. Unfortunately, not enough of it was. And you were embarrassed enough to bury yourself under your covers for the entirety of the day to avoid running into anyone. It’s not like they would know about your encounter with Bucky but you’d have a hard time hiding your shame. And what if you bumped into Bucky?!

Well, as the sun began to set, your worst nightmare came true. Sitting by the window with a blanket wrapped around you, you heard the door open. Your gaze was on the setting sun and the way that it cast a golden shine on the city. You had no intention of breaking your focus when you heard someone enter the room and sit on the side of your bed. Instead, you just pulled the blanket around yourself a little tighter. 

“I’ve never done anything like that before,” you sighed without being completely sure of who had actually entered. At least, you were only unsure until the unmistakable scent of leather and oak filled the room. 

“I wouldn’t know,” the voice said, confirming his identity. Bucky shifted on the mattress causing it to creak. 

Finally turning to face him, you swiveled your chair around and said, “I’m not sure now is the best time for this. I’m really, REALLY not in the mood.” You were tired in every way: physically, mentally, and emotionally. You couldn’t stand to be yelled at anymore. 

“Yeah, well I wasn’t in the mood at three a.m. but you decided to burst into my room last night anyway,” he countered. 

“Did I burst? I’m pretty sure I knocked and you opened the door,” you grumbled sarcastically and spun your chair back around to the window. Bucky reached over and spun the chair around again so that you had to face him. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever I said. I can’t even remember half of it and I still have a headache so can we please just not?” 

His jaw tightened and flexed but he forced himself to relax. “Do you remember me telling you that I don’t really know who you are?” he asked. You remained quiet and just sunk down in your seat. That was, unfortunately, one of the parts you did remember. “Well. . . who are you?” 

There was no malice in his voice. No ill-intention or sarcasm. He was genuinely here to get to know you. So you sat up a little in your chair and pulled your legs up underneath you. “I don’t even know where to start,” you realized. Never in your life had you really spoke about you and it was actually much harder than you had imagined it would be. 

The best place to start seemed like the beginning. So you told him about your brief childhood, your time training the Red Room, your history with Anton, your missions with Hydra. And soon enough the sun had more than sunk beyond the horizon, it had begun to come back up again. 

Getting everything out there was far more cathartic than you had imagined it would be. Bucky had been a wonderful listener - never interrupting but still carefully hearing every word. “You didn’t mention Bucharest,” he noted quietly once you had finished. 

“Do you really want me to talk about Romania?” you asked. It had been such a touchy subject for so long that you hadn’t dared even graze the topic. Sitting in the chair for hours had begun to hurt your back and so you were sitting on the floor, legs spread out and stretching. 

He just shrugged and looked past you to the city. “You know, in my defense,” you began slowly, “I don’t really know that much about you either. Y’know, besides the stuff I could read in history books and Hydra files.” He had made such a big deal about not knowing you, but it wasn’t like he was an open book either. 

“It’s not the same,” he corrected you. “Just because you don’t know my whole history doesn’t mean you don’t know me.” The person he had been in Bucharest had really been him. You had not been you. 

You laughed to try and hide your annoyance. “So what was this all about then? If our histories don’t really make us who we are, then what was this?” Sharing the intimate details of your past had been difficult since vulnerability was not your forte. 

He shrugged again. “I guess you can call us even now,” he stated and stood to stretch. Your eyes fell on the skin that peeked under his raised shirt. 

“No. No, you don’t get to do that. We’re going to. . . I’m going to figure out something and you are going to get to know me,” you promised him. “Really know me.” 

“Sure,” he agreed. He wasn’t sure how else he could know you besides just being around you and seeing how you were in the world. For now, he felt content knowing your past because it made you feel a little more real. It just didn’t stir anything inside of him. 

*****

You had slept through the day since you’d been up through the night. The sun was already preparing to set when you emerged from your room. Fine by you. After shoving some food into your grumbling stomach, you grabbed a large bottle of vodka and moved to Bucky’s room. 

Without knocking, you entered. He was in his bathroom, the door cracked, brushing his teeth at the sink. Through the crack in the door, you caught a glimpse of his half-naked figure which made your heart leap in your chest. It had been far too long since you touched him intimately. He spit out the toothpaste and saw your reflection when he did. 

He moved out of your view before exiting the bathroom clothed (unfortunately). “What do you want?” he asked and laid on his bed, his feet crossed at the ankle. 

You sat on the corner of his bed and wiggled the bottle. “I can’t get drunk,” he reminded you as you popped the cap off and took a swig. 

With a shrug, you replied, “Sure. But this is more for me.” You pulled your legs up underneath you. “There’s this game I’ll sometimes play with stupid college boys. We’re going to play it now.” On occasion, it was important for you to get close with a politician’s son and frequently they were just drunks making their way through college on their parents’ money. 

“Because I’m a stupid college boy?” 

You frowned and took another swig. “Twenty questions. I ask you a question that you have to answer and then we switch. Here’s my rule for tonight. No questions about our past. It doesn’t matter.

“Here, I’ll give you an example by going first. If you could go back in time, before you were born, what time would you go back to?” you asked him. 

Bucky scrunched his nose. That question seemed kind of frivolous. How was that supposed to help him get to know you? He humored you anyway. “I wouldn’t go back in time. I’ve done enough skipping around in time and it’s not nearly as fun as it seems.” 

Fair enough. “Very good. Your turn to ask me a question now,” you encouraged. As it usually went, you braced yourself for some dumbass question like ‘what kind of panties do you wear?’ 

But he changed up the usual course of the game by asking an equally frivolous question, “What’s your biggest regret?” You’d much rather have him ask you what kind of panties you were in. 

You rolled your tongue over the front of your teeth. “I had a chance to get out of Hydra, to escape. I was twenty and I was scared. That was the only life I knew. And because I stayed, a lot of people got close,” you admitted which made your stomach knot in guilt. Leaving him had been the second biggest regret. But leaving him had only hurt him when you staying with Hydra had gotten people killed. 

His tight expression made you worry that the game was already over. Could he ever really learn to truly trust or love someone like you? Well, who was he to judge when he had done really terrible things in his time, too. 

“Did you kill JFK?” you asked, hoping that the game would continue and he would answer. 

He reached across the bed and snatched the vodka taking a long gulp. Most of his kills weren’t in Hydra records for the sake of keeping the information as top secret as possible. It was a popular rumor in the Hydra community and you just wanted to know. 

“Yes,” he answered quickly before asking you a question so neither of you could dwell on his answer. It’s not like you cared that much. You had killed politicians before and you weren’t even from America. “Do you want kids?”

That was like a blow to the gut. Here you were asking if he was the executioner in one of America’s most prolific assassinations and yet you were more overwhelmed than he was. “No. Which is good because I can’t have any,” you answered. It was an important procedure performed in the Red Room. A good spy used sex as a weapon and couldn’t let a pregnacy get in the way of the job. 

“Who was the first person you ever loved?” you asked him. 

Bucky nodded slowly as he thought back. This was working better than the two of you could’ve ever imagined. You began to understand him in a way that you hadn’t before and he felt like he was finally getting to see inside the real you. 

“Pamela Wiggs. I took her to the prom,” he smiled wistfully which caused you to smile, too. 

“What about you? Who’s the first person you ever loved?” he asked. 

What were you supposed to say? That he was the first person you had ever loved? That up until you met him that you didn’t even believe in love? You’d confess nearly anything but not that. “You can’t repeat a question,” you cleared your throat. 

He made a face but didn’t argue with you. “Fine. Uh, what’s your ideal date?” 

You chuckled. He went from asking really personal questions to sounding like a corny dating show host. “I’m not exactly sure. I haven’t had a lot of time to get to know me either, I guess,” you laughed, more sadly now. “If I had to pick. . . well, I’ve always thought that getting a boat and going sailing sounded nice.”

There was the faint hint of a smile on his lips. “What made you join the army?”

“You know,” he began, “I used to think it was because I wanted to stop the bad guys. Punch a few nazis. Now it just. . . it feels so long ago I don’t even know why I did.”

You moved up beside him so you could lean against the headboard with him. He handed you back the vodka and you took a long sip. “If you could be anything other than a spy, what would you be?” he asked you.  
In your time as a spy, you had gotten to play a lot of different roles and gotten a taste of many professions. As a very young girl, you had wanted to be a princess. Now that was one of the last things you wanted. “Maybe a gardener of some sort. I’ve just taken and destroyed so much life that it would be nice to make something grow, you know?” 

He met your eyes and nodded. He did know. “What would you do?” you whispered. There it was. That electricity that you had missed so much. 

“I thought we couldn’t ask repeat questions,” he replied softly. 

“Right. Shit. Uh. . . How many women have you been with?” His gentle gaze had thrown you for a loop. You smacked your forehead for asking him a question such as that. 

He chuckled, but only once. “I can’t say I kept count. Only one since escaping Hydra.” The life he had had before that just seemed so far away now. 

“Do you love me?” he asked, causing vodka to shoot out your nose as you drank. You coughed and sputtered. The alcohol burned which made your eyes water. 

“What?” 

“Do you love me?” he repeated. 

“Why would you ask that?” you frowned. The two of you had been having fun up until now. Or so you thought. 

He pursed his lips and took the bottle from you. He sat it on the nightstand. “You told me. When I carried you to bed,” he explained. 

“I was drunk,” you answered quickly. 

He just nodded slowly and stared ahead. While the answer didn’t surprise him, it wasn’t what he had been wanting to hear. The more he had been talking with you, the more he realized that he did sort of know you. Maybe you had lied about your identity and your history, but you - at your core - was the same. And maybe his feelings had stirred up because of it. 

“I don’t,” you lied. “I don’t love you.” You just couldn't tell him the truth and ruin the progress you were slowly making. Besides, you had never admitted it to him while he was awake before. . . or when you were sober. Now was not the time.


	10. To Love is To Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky argue about whether or not you love one another

“You’re lying,” he said plainly. 

You lifted the bottle of vodka to your lips and drank more than you should’ve. “Nope.” You took another long drink. Did he actually know you were lying or was he just hoping that it wasn’t the truth. 

He nodded slowly and slipped out of bed. “Thought I knew you, then,” he muttered under his breath. This whole time he thought that the role you had played in Romania had been based heavily on your own personal character. It turned out that the only character you liked to play was a liar. 

“Bucky, this is your room,” you called out to him as he threw open the door to leave. If he wanted you gone so bad then you could’ve just gotten up. You scrambled off the bed and out into the hall after him. 

“Keep it,” he growled. He reached the end of the hall and punched the floor-up elevator button. You moved beside him and looked up at him but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. 

“Will you just come back? Please, Buck, I wasn’t lying. Come on, we were having a good time,” you begged. Not only was he really warming up to you, but you felt like you better understood him now, too. 

He shook his head and moved into the elevator. A frown pulled his lips down when you followed him in. You stopped him from hitting a floor-level button so the doors just closed and the two of you were stuck in that metal box, unmoving. 

“Seriously, what is the big deal? You really want me to love you? Then you shouldn’t have spent the past few months I’ve been here harassing me. And even if you hadn’t, we haven’t even seen each other for a year!” you yelled. 

He ran a hand down his jaw. You were always yelling at him anymore. “No, it’s because you lied. You want me to trust you? You can’t lie to me,” he informed you. 

You clenched your jaw and your fists. “Well, what kind of loaded question is that? You think either of us were going to win with either answer? What would you have done had I said ‘yes’?” He didn’t answer your question. “No, tell me, Bucky. If I had said “oh yes, dearest James, my whole heart belongs to you” then what would you have done? Just continue our game like nothing happened?”

His lips suddenly crashed against yours. Your body slammed back against the panel of the elevator causing half of the buttons to be pressed. His hands held tightly onto your waist and yanked your hips against his. “Just say it,” he growled into your skin. 

“You say it first,” you tempted him. Your hands moved under his shirt and up his back as you felt over his familiar muscles. His hands moved down to your rear end which prompted you to jump up on his hips. 

Neither of you was willing to admit that you loved the other but it had become too obvious for either of you to ignore. It was the first time you truly allowed yourself to think about him loving you. There were happy, little butterflies fluttering in your gut. 

The elevator lurched as it moved up two floors. The door opened and no one entered. Your backside had hit enough buttons that your little escapade was turning into a ride. But your focus was solely on him and vice versa. 

In a fluid motion, you pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it to the ground. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss, your tongue sliding in over his. His breath hot against yours. 

Your fit slipped to the ground, though you were on your tiptoes to remain closer to his level. His fingers hooked around your shorts and yanked them down to your ankles where you promptly stepped out of them. 

His left hand grabbed the backside of your knee and kept your leg pulled up against his side. His right hand moved between your legs and he smiled. Your panties were already damp from excitement. He pushed them to the side. 

You bit your lower lip when you realized the bulge in his pants. Had you really been so caught up in his kiss that you had missed it?! Your fingers nimbly yanked his gray sweatpants down just enough that he sprung free. An excited laugh passed through your lips and over his. 

He wasted no time entering your body. Neither of you took notice as the elevator would go up a few floors, the door would open and then shut, and then the process would repeat. The two of you only focused on the familiar rhythm your bodies fell into. 

You threw your head back as he rolled his hips against yours, thrusting himself deeper inside you. Your fingernails dug into the flesh of his shoulders as he breathed, hot and heavy, into your ear. His right hand reached around and grabbed a handful of your ass. 

“Say it,” he whispered to you. 

“Fuck you. You know I do,” you replied with a smile. 

“I don’t know,” he frowned, shaking you from your daydream. The two of you were still standing in the unmoving elevator, fully clothed. You felt an insatiable heat and wetness between your legs. If he had really jumped your bones. . . well, maybe you would’ve felt more inclined to be honest. But here you were and there he was. 

“Well, what about you, then? What about you, James?” you turned the table and shifted focus to him. You crossed your arms defensively across your chest. You still had butterflies in your stomach. Why did you let your imagination run so wild? “Do you love me?” 

“This isn’t about me,” he tried to deflect.

“It’s as much about you as it is about me,” you assured him. Maybe if he said it first you could say it back. Even then, though, you were unsure. “Answer the damn question.”

“Of course,” he whispered and stepped in close. He took your hands in his and kissed your fingers. He moved his lips slowly up your arm and to your lips. “I’ve always loved you.” He pulled you in closer. Now this was more like it. 

His hands were placed on your back, keeping you flush against him. You wrapped your arms around him and curled the ends of his hair around your fingertips. He wasn’t rushing this and so you weren’t going to either. 

Bucky tapped the button to open the elevator door and led you back to his bedroom where he gently laid you back on the bed. Taking his time, he pulled you out of your clothes and kissed every inch of freshly exposed skin. Your skin was alive with goosebumps. 

He took off his own clothes before climbing over top of you. His lips pecked at your own before settling on your neck and collarbone. His little butterfly kisses caused your heart to race so quickly it was skipping beats just to keep up. 

His hand moved between your legs where he rubbed quick but gentle circles on your sweet spot. Two of his fingers then dipped inside you with ease since you were already so slick. You gasped excitedly causing him to chuckle. 

“I loved you then,” he replied, shaking you from your second daydream. Damn, what had gotten into you? You leaned back against the door of the elevator and crossed your legs to subtly allow yourself some relief. 

You cleared your throat. “That’s not what I asked. I don’t care about then. Do you love me now?” 

It was a complicated question with an even more complicated answer. Did he love you? Well, he thought so. Part of him still felt like he didn’t know you while the other part recognized so much. Even before, when he had been so hostile and angry, he was sure he had loved you then. It was important that he had loved you back then because he hadn’t stopped loving you since. But how in the world was he supposed to tell you that?

“That’s not how the game works,” he managed a joke. “I asked you first and you can’t repeat my question.” It was the first time in all of your arguing that he was the one to try and lighten the tension. 

Yet here you were not buying into it. “It’s not a damn game, anymore. You ruined the game when you asked that fucking question,” you frowned and hit the button to open the door before exiting the elevator. 

Would he follow after you? Did you even want him to? You didn’t allow yourself to look back as you ran down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You were quick to lock the door so he couldn’t follow you in. It was an immature decision to make but you had decided in that moment that you weren’t ready to face the answers anymore. That’s why you had fallen into those daydreams. Whatever fantasy you created had to be better than whatever the real life outcome would be. . . right? 

There was no knock on the door. The handle never jiggled. You were both disappointed and relieved. He really hadn’t followed you. Or so you thought. 

When you opened the door hours later so you could sneak off to the kitchen, a body came rolling into your room. After exiting the elevator, Bucky had sat in front of your door waiting for you to come out on your own time. He scrunched his nose, trying to hide his embarrassment, and stood up. 

“I do,” he said after clearing his throat. You only furrowed your brow and looked at him in confusion. “I do.” He pulled you tightly against him and pressed his lips to yours. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say it,” he promised you as his hands moved around your hips. 

“You’re going to have to pinch me,” you whispered breathlessly. 

He raised his eyebrow. “What?” 

“Bucky, just pinch me,” you repeated. His metal fingers gripped your arm, pinching at the skin. There was a red mark when he pulled his hand away. 

You laughed happily and jumped up on his hips causing him to tumble back against the wall. “I was afraid that maybe this was a dream,” you breathed against his lips. This felt more real than it had before. There was a warmth to his body that hadn’t been present during your daydreams. 

He just smiled and kissed you back. He moved forward and laid you down on the bed. You flipped him around so that you were on top. Your hips rolled down over his as your hands expertly trailed down his frame and hooked around his belt loops. Slowly, you inched his pants past his ankles. A lovely little tent had been pitched in his boxers so you did the only thing there was to do - you grabbed a hairband off your nightstand. 

Bucky grinned and pulled his shirt off as you pulled down his boxers. You took his full length in your grip and made sure that he was as erect as possible before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. His breath hitched as you let his entire member slip over your tongue and down your throat. 

He took your hand in his, tangling your fingers together as your head bobbed slowly up and down. “Fuck,” he whispered. Of course, you weren’t here to let him have all of the fun. That had just been enough to warm him up. 

You sat up on your knees and pulled your clothes off before kissing up his body, leaving tender kisses and bite marks on his chest. He grabbed your hips to help line you up over top of him. Then he was pressing inside of you. 

Your breasts were pressed against his chest as you sank completely down over him. A moan passing through your lips and over his skin causing him, in his excitement, to buck up further into you. You moaned a little heavier. 

Soon enough, your bodies were completely in sync. Your bodies were instruments and the music they played was a symphony. His left hand moved between your bodies and over your clit where he rubbed quick circles. He had always been so good at making sure you finished. 

“Fuck me,” you repeated over and over as the flame between your legs grew into a roaring fire. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.” Your fingernails dug into his skin and your legs trembled. And soon the symphony reached its climax with the thundering clatter of cymbals, the crescendo of the entire orchestra, and the blaring roar of the brass section. You bit your thumb in an attempt to quiet your screams. 

Bucky’s breathing quickened and he pulled your body in closer as he reached his own climax. He buried his head in the crook of your neck as he finished inside of you. Slowly, he lifted his head and pecked at your lips as you climbed off of him. You collapsed next to him on the bed. 

He moved into your bathroom and came out with a warm rag. “Always the gentleman,” you whispered as he wiped between your legs. He just met your eyes and smiled. 

You sat up and watched him carefully. “What changed?” you asked. 

“Hm?”

“You heard me. We’ve been yelling at each other for months now? Come on, you hate me. What changed?” you asked. Never in a million years did you really expect your fantasy of him confessing his love you and fucking the hell out of you to come true. Especially not so soon. 

He sighed and moved in beside you. He wrapped his right arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close. You took his left hand in your own and kissed the backside of it. “You know I’ve always had nightmares,” he explained quietly. You nodded. “Well, the day you showed up at the compound. . . I was so angry but I slept the best I had in a really long time that night. And every night after. No more nightmares. For the life of me, I just couldn’t figure it out.

“I told myself that it couldn’t be you. I didn’t know you. You had just played me and then left me to think that I was broken and couldn’t be loved. But here you were the whole time. . . not some monster but this poor girl who had been damn near as brainwashed as I had been. . .

“I don’t know. . . Steve says that the anger just came because it was easier than being hurt. Maybe he was right. And you were just such an easy target. But then you made me get to know you. I felt like I already knew you.”

“Why didn’t you knock? You just sat outside my door,” you asked him quietly. 

“I stood there for a long time. I didn’t know if I should kick the door down angrily or walk away. And then I got to thinking about how hard it is for me to love and trust someone. It finally clicked that it must be hard for you, too,” he admitted. You blushed because he had pretty much hit the nail on the head there. 

“I sat there,” he continued, “And just thought about how much I loved you then. And how I never stopped loving you. Suddenly here you were again. And I was so afraid that you had only pretended to care before so I put up my guard. And then you told me you loved me when I tucked you in that night you were drunk.” 

You blushed even more. So embarrassing! “I know you used to tell me when you thought I was asleep back in Bucharest, too,” he admitted. You frowned. So much for thinking you knew what you were doing! “That’s when I knew you loved me. And it’s okay. You can say it on your own time.”

“I love you,” you said quickly and bit your own tongue. 

He laughed gently and kissed the top of your head. “I love you, too.”

And you did. You really did love him. But more than that, he really loved you, too. For the first time in maybe forever, the two of you were perfectly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter made sense. The closer I get to the end of these things, the more I struggle. I'm so bad at wrapping things up nicely. Sorry :) Thanks for staying tuned! I hope to write another fic soon but I've got a Kylo Ren fic in the works first. Feel free to shoot me some ideas for Bucky fics though! I could use some ideas!!


End file.
